The King's Quest
by CooperGirlHH
Summary: "You need to stop looking up at me and at the same time looking down on him, Susan." One year after they defeated the White Witch and became the Kings of Narnia, Peter sends his younger brother on a potentially dangerous quest to give him a chance to prove himself. FIRST THREE CHAPTERS EDITED AND REPOSTED. Reviews are always welcome
1. Chapter 1

**The King's Quest**

 **Summery:** One year after they defeated the White Witch and became the Kings of Narnia, Peter sends his younger brother on a potentially dangerous quest to give him a chance to prove himself.

 **Author's notes:** This is my first ever Narnia fanfiction. I haven't written much fanfiction in the last ten years. I started an NCIS one two years ago – but unfortunately never had the time to finish – so I took it down.

The other day, however, I decided to watch the latest movie adaption of Narnia (all three movies), and I've also read quite a few Narnia fics. I couldn't help coming up with this story (by the way, I have already completed it on my computer so that there's no danger that I will abandon it like I unfortunately did with the NCIS one).

About the story: I am afraid that this will mostly just feature Edmund, for he's always been my favourite Narnia character.

Since it's been up to twenty years since I read the books, I guess this story is mainly influenced by the movies and – thanks, guys, for the inspiration – other fanfiction I read.

 **Disclaimer:** I just borrowed most of the characters mentioned in the following fiction ... It happened for the purpose of enterteining myself and everybody else who shall read this!

 **This chapter is being reposted after it was edited by the lovely _Realismandromance_ (aka Susannah) who was so kind as to offer me (not being a native English speaker) her help with this. Thank you so much!**

XXX

It was a most beautiful morning at Cair Paravel – one of the warmest in that spring so far. The sun shone rather strongly – considering that it had still been snowing only a couple of weeks ago – and the pleasant sounds of birds singing filled the air.

Mixing up with the birds was the noise of metal clashing on metal, coming from the training grounds down in the castle courtyard. High King Peter the Magnificent of Narnia smiled to himself, squinting slightly against the blinding sunlight, as he watched the two dissimilar opponents sparring on the grass just below his feet. He had made himself comfortable on the stone wall that bounded the training grounds. On the wall's other side was the wide stone terrace, where he and his siblings liked to sit in the sun on the rare occasion when no duties had to be seen to. His feet were dangling at least ten feet above the ground. When standing on the terrace behind, though, the wall would only reach up to his hips.

"Do they have to use their actual swords for training?" said a familiar female voice next to him. "I thought you practised with wooden ones – at least for now."

"We used to," said Peter, trying to hold back a grin. He hadn't heard his sister approach. "However, Oreius seems to have decided that it was time to take the next step." He turned around to look at her. "Anyway, Su, it isn't as if we'd never fought with a proper blade before, as you may remember." He knew that Susan most certainly did remember. It had been only a year since they had defeated the White Witch.

"And it isn't as if either of you haven't been wounded before." She stepped closer to the wall, leaning forward on it, propped on her slender arms, fingers unconsciously clawing at the stones.

Peter watched her for a while. He noticed that with every clash of the swords down below, she winced slightly at the harsh sound.

"He's not bad, though," she admitted, finally. Just at that moment, their younger brother attacked his sparring partner, a young faun, again.

He was rather a bulky, muscular chap for a faun. Fauns in general were neither big nor broad in build, but in comparison Edmund was still small, and the Faun he was fighting at this moment seemed to dwarf him.

The faun, Alroy, was quick on his feet and strong. He easily parried every one of the young king's attacks and dealt a few of his own at his eleven-year-old human opponent – one of which was so close to hitting that it had Susan positively sweating just by looking at it.

He, too, Peter realised. "Careful there, Ed!" he found himself shouting, causing his younger brother to lose concentration for a second to look over.

It was one second too much. With a quick, long-practised movement, Alroy disarmed Edmund and forced him to the ground.

"Well done, Sire." He held out a hairy arm to pull the boy to his feet again. "You want revenge?"

"Of course," Edmund retorted, without needing time to think about it. He sounded a little out of breath, but Peter smirked, knowing Edmund wasn't ready to give in yet, and unable to hide the pride that he felt at how his little brother was developing.

"He's gaining confidence," he said to Susan.

"A little too much for my liking," replied his sister, the Gentle Queen. "And it's about the only thing he seems to be gaining." Her voice sounded thoroughly concerned as she continued. "I mean, shouldn't he be bigger by now?"

"Su, honestly – you worry too much! He's eleven, for Aslan's sakes!"

His sister wasn't intending to let it go. "You were bigger at eleven, I'm sure –" she pressed on.

"You had better not let him hear that –"

"But what with all this training for hours and hours – and every day, too – where's he to take the energy from to grow?"

Swinging his feet over the wall to face his sister properly, Peter shook his head. "Really, you're being ridiculous now, Su." He pushed a few strands of too-long hair from his slightly sweaty forehead and decided that now was as good a time as ever to confront Susan with his recently made plans for their younger brother. "Actually, Oreius and I talked the other day and we're both thinking it was time for Edmund to take on the King's Quest."

Susan paled. "You cannot be serious, Peter. After all, he is only eleven –"

"– and fully capable of holding his own in a fight, as you can see." He pointed at the two figures below, as they chased each other back and forth as if it was nothing more than a very peculiar dance.

But his sister didn't bother to look that way. Instead, she straightened herself up to her full height, arms crossed in front of her chest, and gave her big brother a stern look. "No."

"Sorry, Su, but –"

"I forbid it."

Peter stood up and copied her stance. "You're overruled here, Susan."

"But Peter, it's not possible. He'll never be able to –"

"It wasn't impossible for me last summer, was it?"

"Yes, but you're –"

"What?"

For lack of having a better argument, Susan settled for "older".

"Yeah, but what if I had been eleven? Would you have let me?"

"I dunno."

"Yeah, you do." He gripped her gently by the shoulders. "I know you would have let me. And I even know why."

Susan pouted at little. "So now you're reading my mind?"

"No, but I know a little bit about you."

"Do tell."

"Well ... let's put it this way ... as I am the eldest, I would be the first to make all experiences and I'm the one you measure yourself against. If I can do something at a certain age, you'll believe it is possible. But when it comes to either Edmund or Lucy, you would judge by the fact: if either I had done it before or if you yourself would have felt able at achieving it at their age –"

Peter paused and searched for his sister's eyes. She didn't object to his words, and so he went on, "– you must realise that everybody is their own person. Each of us can achieve something that another might not. Or, not at that age."

Susan knew already that she was fighting a losing battle, he was sure of that. But still he pressed on.

"You know, Su, these past months I have been thinking a lot, and I suppose it is time we gave Edmund the chance to achieve something that I haven't done before him. Something to set himself apart from me."

"But you also went on the King's Quest –"

"At thirteen, not at eleven."

"And why do you think it's necessary that Edmund does it now and doesn't wait until he's thirteen, too?"

"As I said, I've been thinking it through. Remember what happened a year ago – the witch and all?"

Susan paled visibly. "How could I forget?"

"Have you ever wondered what made Edmund make that bad decision, to ... join her forces?"

"He was just being himself – then." Susan bit her lip. It wasn't a nice thing to say, but it was the truth.

"Yeah, but what made him become that way?"

Susan shrugged. She probably had an idea of what reasons were behind their little brother's beastly behaviour a year ago. But she didn't say anything, leaving it to Peter to give his explanation.

"Here's my guess. It was in large parts because of me. The easiest explanation would be that he was trying to set himself apart from me. And chose the wrong way to do so."

"You're not to be held responsible for Edmund's behaviour, Peter."

"Well, to some extent, I think I _was_ responsible. I mean, it was my job to protect all of you, but I forgot that didn't mean that I had to watch over every step you were taking. I admit, Edmund was the most difficult of all of you to look after, what with the risks he took – just think about that night, when the air-raids began! But still, I should have let him know – at least from time to time – that I trusted him to do the right thing. Instead, I watched his every move, and at the slightest mistake, I reprimanded him no end. We used to get along well – before Dad went away. Remember, Su?"

She did – he could see it from the look on her face.

"But with Dad away and all of you being my responsibility, I think I took my job of looking after you a little too seriously. However, I am prepared to make up for it now. In Edmund's case, that would be to let him know that I think him capable of mastering this challenge."

"But Peter, I really don't think it has to be this, does it?"

His hands, still on her shoulders, squeezed gently. "Be honest with yourself, Susan: If I were eleven, would you – as my little sister – have trusted me if I said I was ready to go?"

"I suppose I would have, yes."

"Then trust me when I'm telling you that Edmund is ready for it, too. Will you?"

"I'll try."

"You need to stop looking up at me while at the same time you're looking down on him."

Susan nodded. "Okay. I'll do my best." There was moment of silence, then she asked, "Does he know of your plans, yet?"

"No," said Peter.

He turned around to look across the wall again, just in time to see his brother duck away from a hearty strike that Alroy had directed at him. A second later, Edmund struck back so fast that, with a clever turn of his sword, he managed to disarm his bigger and stronger sparring partner. Pressing on, he forced his opponent to his knees and into surrender.

Peter grinned, clapping loudly and turning to Susan to wink at her. "He'll be fine."

X

"The King's Quest?" said Edmund, dark eyes shining with excitement, making Peter want to smile. But instead he put on a stern expression. The truth was that he wasn't nearly as confident about his decision as he had let on that morning, when he had been talking to Susan. Not because he didn't think his brother to be capable of the task, but he knew from his own experience that things did not always go as planned. What if Edmund came across any unexpected trouble? What if he was indeed too young to be prepared if he met such trouble? Peter would never forgive himself for sending Edmund into unexpected danger – and neither would Susan and Lucy. Or Aslan.

 _Aslan_. Peter suppressed a sigh. The Great Lion would not let anything happen to Edmund, would He? He would tell Peter if He thought it too early. Or not tell, really, rather more like _letting him know_ ... somehow.

They were sitting together in Peter's study: a small, yet cosy enough room in the castle's western wing. There was a narrow tapestry on the stone wall, all beautiful Narnian colours, which was pretty much the only bit of decoration – unless you counted the big wooden desk and the thick curtains that hung by the window. The late afternoon sun shone into the room, brightening it up.

"This is not meant to be for fun, Edmund," the High King lectured his brother gently. "It is meant for a king to prove himself worthy as a guardian for his people. You'll be travelling to Narnian borders in all directions and all by yourself. There you will have to find the _Three Stones_ – which Oreius is already having set up as we speak. And you'll have to bring them back here."

"Yes, I know," Edmund huffed impatiently. He was already getting more excited by the minute. It was obvious that he found it difficult to still. Longingly, his eyes darted to the window time and time again, looking at the distant forest behind the window glass, as if he couldn't wait to get out there. "You've done it last summer and all the rules were explained to us. I _know_ what I'll have to do."

"Good," said Peter. "Because you're to leave tomorrow. Get prepared."

"On my way," his brother replied, slipping out of his chair. He was almost through the door and out of the room when he turned back once more. "Pete?"

"Hmm?"

"Does Susan know I'll be going?"

The High King smirked. "Told her this morning."

"Really? She agreed? How did you convince her? After all, I suppose I would have gone at some point, but so soon – I'd never have guessed she'd let me –"

"I don't think that I have convinced her at all, really."

Edmund's eyebrows went up at this, questioningly. "But –"

"In fact, I think you did that, yourself, Ed."

"How?"

"We were watching you fight Alroy this morning. You did quite well. Susan had to admit that. The only thing she's not too happy with is your skill when it comes to archery."

Edmund pulled a face. Archery was not one of his favourite disciplines.

"However, that's to be expected," Peter continued, laughing at his brother's grimace. "No one's good at that from her point of view. Not an expert at it myself, I must admit. But Susan thinks it would be useful if you could hunt yourself a meal from time to time."

"Did you?" asked Edmund. "I mean, did you have to when you were out there?"

"To be honest, I didn't try hunting much. Do not worry, though, little brother, you won't starve –"

"Tell that to Susan, will you?"

"– Narnia is full of friendly creatures and Talking Beasts that are always ready to offer their hospitality to their king. Or any human being, or any other being in need of a hot meal and a warm place to sleep."

Edmund grinned. "You make it sound like it's nothing more than a walk in the park. Wonder why Susan made such a fuss of it when you were out there."

"Now, now." Putting on a serious expression, Peter folded his arms across his chest. "Be sure not to underestimate this. As I said, you will be travelling to the borders. And believe me - the closer to the borders you get, the fewer Talking Beast and other friendly creatures you'll meet. And I promise you that you will get hungry and exhausted and you will have moments when you think you can't go on – but you always must."

"Aslan shall be with me," mumbled Edmund.

"I shall hope so," agreed Peter. "But now – what are you waiting for? Preparations must be made. Off you go!" He practically shooed his brother out of the room, thinking it best to leave the preparations to be done by Edmund himself and – no doubt – by Susan, who would make sure he packed properly. Pushing away any last bit of doubt he had about this, Peter stretched out his legs underneath the desk and leaned back in his chair, trying to be as pleased with himself as he wanted everybody else to think he was.

XXX

 **Please let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:** Reposted chapter!

Many thanks to **_Realismandromance_ (aka Susannah) ** for editing :). Great Job! **  
**

XXX

Edmund was ready to set out at first dawn the next morning. It had been an unpleasantly short and restless night for him, for even though he wouldn't admit it, he was very anxious about his impending journey.

The air outside the castle was chilly enough for him to see his own breath. It was spring, so the nights were cold, even if the sun shone warmly during the days. Freezing slightly, Edmund pulled his cloak a little tighter around him.

The horse was saddled; Edmund would have loved to take his speaking companion Philip with him on this quest, as Philip had become a close friend to him during the past year, but the rules were strict. Philip was an intelligent creature. He could have contributed to the tasks ahead – and would have.

Edmund mounted the horse he had chosen for the quest – a rather tall stallion by the name of Nobell – and, after a moment of silent contemplation, he gently dug his heels into Nobell's belly and urged the horse to move.

Although he knew he was well prepared for his journey – Susan had made sure of that – he didn't feel quite as confident as he had had his siblings believe. Oh, he was certainly happy for the chance to prove himself, not only to his siblings (Peter in particular), but to all Narnians. After all, only one year had passed since ... since _then_. And sometimes, when he sat on his throne in the courtroom, where Narnians came up to voice their matters to their kings and queens, he was sure that he could see their distrust towards him.

But the tasks that lay ahead gave him and all the Narnians the chance to meet outside the castle – with him alone, and without any guards, which made Susan sick with worry. But she had allowed Peter to go only a couple of months ago. She couldn't very well set up different rules for her younger brother than for her older one. Not against Peter's will, anyway. Still, she had fussed mightily before letting Edmund go. Had he packed enough clothes, including warm ones for the nights and for his excursion into the colder North? Had he thought of taking enough food? Was he armed properly?

To avoid more fussing in the morning – which would have made it harder for him leave – Edmund had said goodbye to his siblings at night, before they had all gone to bed. He smiled at the thought of Lucy: she had clung to him for a long time, wishing him the best of luck and never tiring of telling him that Aslan would watch over him.

If truth be told, he was missing his siblings already. Worse, he felt lonely. If only Philip could have come! Then he would have had someone to talk to now. Not talking consequently meant having more time to brood, and – as had happened often in the past year – his thoughts dwelled on the mistakes he had made leading to his betrayal. It would still take a long time to get over it. He wondered if maybe he would be haunted by it forever.

As he rode on, he met more than one friendly beast, as well as other Narnians, so he enjoyed a little company every now and then. He wasn't exactly travelling in disguise, but neither was he under a banner which would have identified him as a king. The clothes he wore were fine clothes, mostly leather, but not comparable to what he wore in court. Travelling alone also meant that he wasn't as recognisable for the Narnians as if he had been together with his siblings. So far, nobody had addressed him as "Your Majesty", and he was even happy about that.

The _Three Stones_ he was supposed to find and bring back to the castle had been set up by three of the eagles who served as part of the royal guard (travelling through the air, they were very fast). Each of them had carried one stone to one of the borders and placed it in hiding. Edmund did only have a very vague description of where to look for them, and he wasn't so sure how he was supposed to find them. He had thought about that a lot the day before – what if he didn't find them? It might take weeks and weeks to search for three fist-sized stones, even if they had that special gleam that set them apart from any other stone Edmund had ever seen.

In the end, he had even overcome his pride and had attempted to try and get the information out of Peter. However, the High King had merely laughed. "You shall find that out for yourself, brother mine," he had said.

Edmund had left it at that one failed attempt. He knew very well that Peter would not give anything away – and he, Edmund, had been caught trying to cheat once. His pride wouldn't allow him to risk it again.

What he did know about his task was that his first destination was the Northern Marches, just south of the River Shribble. He had been given a long lecture by both Peter and Susan that he wasn't to cross the river. This had two reasons, the first being that there were the giants living north of Narnia – and they weren't known to be friendly creatures. And the second was that there were a few rumours that some of _her_ former allies had fled north.

Edmund wondered if any of what he had heard was true. The fauns who served at Cair Paravel would talk all day long and tell story after story. Tumnus himself had once even mentioned that the giants were known to eat every creature that they could get their hands on – at least, that was the way Lucy had related the story to her siblings. Edmund shuddered involuntarily at the thought of it.

But, a moment later, he pushed the thought aside, telling himself that Peter had been on the same journey only months before, and he clearly hadn't been eaten.

The day passed by, and as it turned into evening, Edmund realised that the air was becoming unpleasantly cold. He knew, of course, that he should expect the weather to become a little colder the further north he was travelling, but he hadn't expected to feel the effect so soon. Just before sunset, he decided to call it a day.

After he had fed and watered Nobell, he began to set up the small tent he had brought. Soon, it would be too dark to see properly, and then he would have to sleep without the shelter a tent provided. Edmund knew better than to let that happen.

It was another uncomfortable night, and he slept fitfully, his sword always nearby. Several times, he woke up to unfamiliar sounds, only to realise that it was always either something as harmless as a squirrel, or just his own imagination. At dawn, he found that he couldn't get back to sleep. Despite the protection of the tent and the thick, furry bedroll he had brought, the cold kept him awake. So he finally decided to set up a fire and have some breakfast.

"Be sure to eat well," Susan had said. "Especially when going up north – it's colder there, and you'll need more energy." The amount of provisions she had made him pack was enough to last half a year, he was certain.

After breakfast, he was still freezing, so he decided that he would walk for a bit instead of riding. He packed everything up and saddled the horse, but didn't mount. Instead, while leading Nobell by the reins, he jogged at a nice comfortable pace until he finally felt warmed by the early morning sun. Then, he swung himself into the saddle and urged the horse into a gallop.

Now, this was the part of the journey he very much enjoyed.

That day was as uneventful as the last had been, and so was the next. The only thing worth mentioning was that, after three days along the way, he finally he realised the change in the weather more clearly. The sunny moments were rare, and most of the time, heavy clouds overcast the sky. On the fourth morning, Edmund woke to the steady sound of raindrops falling on his tent. All day long, it would not stop raining. Finally, late in the afternoon, he decided to set up camp early and spend some time thinking how to continue in the morning.

The ground was getting increasingly difficult for Nobell to cross – the marshlands were forcing them to make bigger and bigger detours around the increasing areas, which were not solid earth, but covered in mud, water and bog soil. Edmund wondered if he would be faster walking the last bit on his own two feet. _The river is probably quite near_ , he thought. _I could go a more direct way if I just walked and left the horse and everything I don't need behind._

In the morning, he began to look for a place where he could leave Nobell and the things he wasn't going to need. Zigzagging through the marshes, he looked out for a tree or a bush that was thick and strong enough to tie the horse to. Finally, he dismounted next to a small and sturdy-looking bush. Here, he could also safely leave his belongings behind, as they would be at least partly sheltered by the branches. But then he suddenly saw a hole in the ground, probably a rabbit hole, and decided to try and get everything in there.

"Would His Majesty please be so kind as to not block the entrance to our home with his belongings?" said a voice suddenly, startling Edmund. He turned to look for the owner of that voice, and found himself face to face with a big hare, who was giving him an amused look – as far as a hare could look amused, anyway.

"So-sorry," mumbled Edmund. "Didn't know this hole was inhabited."

The hare came closer and bowed to him. "Not to worry, Your Majesty," it replied. Only now Edmund realised. Majesty – the animal had recognised him.

"You know who I am?" he asked.

"Of course, I know you, King Edmund," said the hare, obviously still very amused. "And I say, it's good to see you. It's been a year since the last time. Nothing could have stopped me and my siblings from seeing you and your brother and your sisters at your coronation. But we don't get to travel down south very often." He hobbled still a little bit closer. "I take it that His Majesty is on the King's Quest?"

"How would you know that?"

"Because I found your brother here last year, at this very entrance to our hole, trying to stuff his belongings into it. Seems as though the two of you share the same ideas."

 _Well yes ... sometimes_ , Edmund thought. Aloud, he said, "Well, if I can't leave my stuff here, where else do you suggest I can keep it until I am back from the riverside?"

"Oh, I didn't say that you couldn't leave it here," replied the hare.

"But –"

"All I'm asking for is that you don't leave it at the entrance, where it blocks our way in and out. Here's my suggestion: my siblings and I will carry it all further inside, where it shall stay dry. We'll also tend to your horse. Meanwhile, you can carry on with your quest."

"Did you offer this to Peter as well?" Edmund asked.

The hare regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, "Your brother's quest was his own. Your quest is yours."

"Well, that's kind of obvious, isn't it?" Edmund mumbled to himself.

But, he agreed to the hare's suggestion. At first, of course, he had been reluctant to accept any help that Peter might not have had. However, as he thought it through, he concluded that he really shouldn't worry about that. After all, accepting a helping hand was the most obvious and reasonable thing to do.

Before he left, Edmund turned back to the hare once more. "I almost forgot to thank you for your help, my good hare. Please forgive me. And, by the way, you haven't told your name yet."

"It's Lennox," said the hare. "And you had better get going, Your Majesty. You will need at least four hours to get down to the riverside, and another four to get back here. And you wouldn't want to cross the marshlands at night."

And so, Edmund hurried to go. He briefly considered taking along his sword, or at least the dagger that General Oreius had given him the morning he had left. But he decided against it. There weren't any dangers to be expected – perhaps excluding the giants, but they lived further up north, far beyond the river.

The walk was very unpleasant, and he felt like he had been on the way for far more than four hours when he realised that he had almost reached the riverbank. He began to wonder. How was he supposed to find the stone that he was supposed to bring back as a part of his quest? There were miles and miles he could walk along the river in his search.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a deep, yet still somehow childish voice:

"Mother! Mother! Come on! Don't be so slow!" It came from across the river, but the wind carried it well enough, so it was loud and clear to Edmund's ears.

And the owner of this voice was no hare or friendly beast – or anything else that was supposed to be friendly. Edmund's heart skipped a beat when he saw a young giant dashing towards the water, its mother close at its heels. Quickly, Edmund dropped to the ground, lying flat on his stomach so that they wouldn't see him.

 _What are they doing here, this close to the river? Aren't they supposed to be living way up north?_

Since their coronation, the kings and queens had always been warned not to get into contact with giants who lived outside the country's borders, for the only giants known to be friendly were those who lived in Narnia. They had learned about the ones who inhabited Ettinsmoor – wild and stupid creatures that were known to be especially brutal towards smaller beings. But Ettinsmoor was further to the West. So, these were probably some of the more intelligent ones that lived in the wild Northern Lands, in or close to that place called Harfang. Excepting the fact that they were more intelligent, there was next to nothing known about them. Unless, of course, one believed the stories that Mr Tumnus told.

Edmund wondered if Peter had seen any while on his quest. If so, he hadn't said a word about them. Maybe just so as not to scare the girls. But, he could have at least given his brother a word of warning.

He probably hadn't see any at all. So, maybe it was just Edmund, having bad luck. _As always_ , he thought.

Not daring to move, he observed the giants as they came closer and closer to the river. They carried a fishing net, he noticed. What kind of fish did they expect to catch in this river that could feed a grown giant? Edmund didn't want to think about it.

But what if they crossed the river and found him? What if they decided to drop their plans about fishing, and instead have him as their next meal? Trying to figure out what to do, he began searching for a hiding place, while keeping an eye on what was happening at the same time.

 _Aslan, please, don't let them be able to smell human_ , he prayed silently.

His heart seemed to be beating so loudly that he wondered if the giants could hear it. For several seemingly endless minutes, he didn't dare move at all. Then, he slowly started to crawl away on his belly to get more space between him and the giants. The ground was wet and cold, but he was already thoroughly wet and cold from the rain. Now, he could just add 'dirty' to the list. But cold, wet and dirty was still better than _eaten_.

As he crawled through the mud, his cold fingers suddenly met a rock he hadn't seen, because his attention was still with the giants. He bit back a yelp of pain. It was quite a big rock, and it seemed rather out of place, for there weren't any other rocks that size anywhere. It was curious to Edmund, but somehow, he knew just what to do.

He felt excited – so excited that he momentarily forgot about the danger lurking on the other side of river. Sunken into the mud, the rock lay there, practically calling for Edmund to investigate. Cautiously, he shoved it a bit to the side. It moved easily enough, and underneath was a small, gleaming, fist-sized stone. Runes were carved into it.

Edmund couldn't read the runes, but he had seen them carved into other artefacts as well. He and his siblings had asked several of the Narnians who served at Cair Paravel for the meaning of those runes, but no one knew. The closest they came to an answer was that the runes must have been praises to Aslan which Narnians of older times had carved into the stones.

Edmund reached for the gleaming artefact and picked it up, wiping it clean on his sleeve.

But it was just then that he heard the young giant call out, "Look, mother! Over there – a human!"

Fear shot through Edmund – they had seen him! He stuffed the stone into the little pouch that was tied to his belt, then jumped to his feet, no longer caring about being hidden.

He ran like he had never run in his life, only to slip on the muddy ground and fall – head first – into a big murky puddle.

 _Oh, for Aslan's sakes – why?_

"Mother, mother! I wanna catch the human!"

Edmund scrambled to his feet. This time, he made sure to keep a better lookout as he ran, trying to aim his steps at the places where grass grew in the mud to avoid slipping again. He should have known, though, that he could never outrun the giants. A glance back told him that they were already wading through the river. Soon, he could feel the ground quiver as the heavy giants' steps grew closer. And then, he was caught by his hem and easily lifted into the air.

XXX

 **A/N:** Oh dear – poor Edmund – looks like he is in for some trouble ...


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes:** Yay! Another reposted chapter!

Many thanks again to **_Realismandromance_** for her editing work!

XXX

It was the young giant who had caught Edmund. The king found himself dangling helplessly and in a most unpleasant way in front of the giant's nose. The giant itself was somewhere between thirteen and fifteen feet tall, and its mother must have been closer to twenty feet.

"I caught it! Mother, I caught the human!" shouted the young giant, its voice almost unbearably loud to Edmund, and worsened by his proximity to the brute's mouth. "Mother – can I keep it? What do you think – can I keep it?" It eyed Edmund curiously. "Is it male or female – what do you think, Mother?"

The mother giant eyed Edmund almost as curiously as her child, then she said, "Male, by the looks of it ... but we can only say that for sure once we've got it out of its clothes!"

 _Oh, by the mane of Aslan – NO!_

The young giant was already tugging at Edmund's clothes, but its mother lay a hand on its shoulder. "Not now, son," she said. "Let's go home first."

And so, they carried him to where they had left the fishing net, which was already nicely filled with fish – normal sized fish, but enough to feed an army – or a giant family. As they waded across the river, the younger giant still held onto Edmund (not bothering that his prey dangled in the water) and the mother carried all the fish.

Unable to move in the giant's tight grip as they went, it was all Edmund could do to keep himself from being sick from being rocked about by the swinging of its arm. He was glad that they reached the giants' house very soon. It belonged to a small settlement – he counted only three other (giant) houses. At least it was pleasantly warm inside, and the mother lit the fireplace while the boy dumped his prey carelessly onto what seemed to be the kitchen table.

"I'll go and fetch the cage, mother! Can you find out if it's male or female? I want to give it a name!"

 _I've already got one, thank you very much_ , Edmund thought, but he didn't dare speak.

Off the smaller giant went, and Edmund found himself alone with the mother giant, who now directed her full attention at him. "Now, let's have a closer look at you, shall we?" she said, more to herself than to him – she probably didn't know that he could understand her.

Her thick fingers started prodding him, touching him everywhere, and none too gently. Then, she peeled off his cloak and tunic and – much to his dismay – also pulled down his trousers, including his underwear. He yanked them back up again, and she smiled at him, almost fondly.

"Now, you're one cute little thing, aren't you? Pity for you that humans are so tasty. I bet my son would much rather keep you to play with ..." She lifted his shirt, trying to pinch him, but he managed to move away from her fingers. "Not too big yet, are you?" she mumbled. "And next to no meat on your bones ... guess we'll have to feed you up a little before we eat you ... so my son will get to keep you for a while, after all ..."

The boy arrived with a cage made from thick, sturdy wire. "Look Mother, I got the cage!"

She nodded. "That's good. Put him in there, son."

"It's a he?" asked the boy, giant cheeks glowing with excitement.

"Yes, I checked that."

 _Yes, she most certainly did..._

"Can I keep him, mother?"

"Yes, for a while. Make sure that he is well fed, though. He'll make a fine meal once he's a bit bigger. And fatter."

As he was stuffed into the cage and carried into another room – probably the boy's bedroom – Edmund thought to himself, _wait until Susan hears about this – she'll never complain about me not eating enough again_. The thought almost made him smile – but then again, to be able to tell his older sister, he would have to somehow escape from this place. At least the fact that they hadn't decided to eat him at once gave him the chance get away. But how? The spaces between the wires of his cage were too narrow for him to get through. Maybe they would bend if he tried hard enough?

For now, the giant boy seemed content to watch him, but soon lost interest, as Edmund would do nothing else but sit in the middle of the cage with his knees dragged up to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around them.

Finally, the young giant had had enough. "Do something!" he said, shaking the cage. "You're boring. Mother – he won't do anything!"

What was he supposed to do?

"Just leave him for a bit and try again later!" the mother called back. She came into the room and handed her son some bread. "Don't forget to feed him, though ..." Her son miserably dumped the food into the cage through the small door at the top. After that, the cage was locked again, and both giants lost interest in the human for the time being.

At last alone in the room, Edmund took a good look around.

Of course, his stomach started to grumble at the smell of the fresh bread. After all, it had to be far past noon, and hours since he had last eaten. A little bit can't hurt, he thought – he would have to keep his strength up if he wanted to have any chance at escaping. While chewing, he studied the room, remembering what Oreius had repeatedly said in training sessions: "Always check your surroundings carefully. Make sure to be aware of every detail. Never miss anything that you could turn to your advantage."

The only way out was via the slightly open window by the bed. Enough for a human of Edmund's size to slip through, anyway. But how was he to get there? And would it be better to make his escape now or at night? Trying in the dark would give him a better chance to get out, but it also meant that for now, he was stuck with waiting. And feeling anxious.

The hours passed by, and evening came. The giant boy came back into his room, this time not even bothering to look at Edmund, until Edmund pulled together all the courage he had and shouted, "Oi! You there!"

"You can speak?" said the giant boy.

"I suppose I can," said Edmund.

"What do you want, little one?"

Edmund pointed at the window. "Could you just put me on the cupboard by the window, please? I need a bit of fresh air, otherwise I can't sleep."

The boy eyed him, looking suspicious. But finally, he picked up the cage and did as he was asked to do. "There you are. Better?" To himself, he mumbled, "Don't know why I even bother. Mother says we're going to eat you anyway, once you're bigger."

 _Giants have no idea at all how slowly humans grow_ , thought Edmund. Aloud, he said, "Well, I'm sure I'll taste far better if you make me feel comfortable before you eat me."

The boy regarded these words, looking even more puzzled. Then he shrugged, mumbling, "If you say so." With that, he went to bed, and soon his snoring filled the air.

Edmund, who really was scared out of his wits (although he hadn't let the giant know that), decided that this was his chance to get away. First, he checked if the boy was deeply asleep by clearing his throat a couple of times, very carefully, but more noisily when nothing happened. Finally, Edmund let out quite a loud cough, but still there was no reaction from the giant.

 _Okay, he's fast asleep. Here we go._

Carefully, the young king got to his feet. The cage was small, and he could only just stand upright. If Peter had been locked in this, he would have had to bend over while standing. Edmund smirked to himself. Would have served him right!

Carefully, he gripped the wire, testing how strong it was. Then he cautiously tugged at it a bit. It bent slightly to the side. Gaining confidence, he used all his strength. It bent a little further. Now, he tugged at the next wire, bending it slightly to the other side. Then, tentatively, he stuck his head and shoulders through the gap. Wide enough – perfect!

Now, he would just have to bend the horizontal wire down until he could slip through. He tugged at it, using his weight to support his efforts as he pulled the wire downward until he thought it would suffice. It was still a tight squeeze through the narrow gap, and his shirt ripped as it was snagged, but finally he was out of the stupid thing. Now, it was just climbing up to the windowsill – he could use the curtains for that – and then finding a way to get to the ground on the other side.

One step after another, he reminded himself.

The young giant picked that moment to give an exceptionally loud snore, but thankfully he didn't wake. Edmund had to force himself to steady his breath and stay calm. Go on, he urged himself, and padded silently across the cupboard, then gripped the thick curtain hem. The bad thing was that he would have to go without his tunic and coat, for he didn't know where the mother giant had put them. Yet again, freezing was better than being eaten. But, he still wore his belt, and that meant he had the pouch with the stone in it – which was what counted most!

Pulling himself up via the hem of the window curtain turned out to be rather tricky. Oreius, of course, had taught him how to climb a rope, but he had no experience with (giant) curtains. It was a slow process, and his arms were beginning to ache from the exertion, but he reached the windowsill somehow. The window was still open a crack, and he slipped out into the cold night air, instantly starting to shiver. It was raining again (or still), and an unexpectedly strong wind nearly pushed him off the ledge – he must be at least fifteen feet above the ground!

How was he to get down safely without breaking his bones?

An idea came to him – the curtain cord! It had been out of reach from the cupboard, but he now could walk across the ledge to the other side of the window. He might have the strength to pull the thick cord through the gap and lower it to the ground.

No sooner thought than done – he was soon climbing down the cord. It still didn't quite reach to the ground, but the gap was down to six or seven feet now, close enough to jump without hurting himself. After Edmund had reached the ground, he made himself pause for a moment to check if he could hear anything. But there was no other noise than wind whipping the rain against the house wall. All the windows were dark, and probably everybody except Edmund was asleep.

And so, he ran.

After a while, his legs started to hurt and his breath was coming in deep painful gasps. No matter that Oreius had made him run for miles on end as part of training – nothing he had ever done had prepared him for the sprint he was doing now. From time to time, he slipped on the muddy ground, but used his arms to push himself back up before he properly fell.

Suddenly, he heard steps behind him. But they weren't giant's steps. Not even human ones.

It was the hare!

"Lennox!"

"Your Majesty! You must follow me!" The hare was hobbling right next to him now. "We need to get across the river to be safe!"

"How?" shouted Edmund.

"Follow me," repeated Lennox, and increased his speed. Edmund tried desperately to keep up, but his lungs were burning and his legs felt heavier with every step.

Finally, Lennox came to a halt. Edmund wondered why, but then he saw that there was a hole in the ground, just like the one on the other side of the river, where he had first met Lennox.

"Quickly, your Majesty. Get into the hole," urged Lennox.

Edmund did as he was told. Flat on his stomach, he crept into the rabbit hole. After a bit, the tunnel became wider – wide enough for him to even crawl on his knees rather than flat on his belly. Lennox was just behind him. Deeper and deeper into the ground they went. After another while, the tunnel became smaller again, ending in a small pinhole that led into another, bigger tunnel. Not for the first time that day, Edmund found himself grateful for being small and skinny as he wriggled himself through some tight spaces. But, at the very end, he got stuck.

"Push me," he said to Lennox, unable to keep the annoyance from his voice.

Lennox did. But it was no good.

"Pull me out, then," ordered the king, and the hare obeyed. "We'll have to dig until the hole is big enough for me."

So, they dug together for a while, until he fitted through. On the other side, he at last found that he was too exhausted to go on. It was dark here under the earth, and the air was sticky with little oxygen, but it still felt safe enough to take a short break.

"Will the giants go looking for me?" he asked, after catching his breath.

"Probably," said Lennox. "For a while, at least. But, once we get out on the river's other side, we'll be far enough from their place."

"Are we going to the rabbit hole where I left the horse and all my things?"

"No, we need to get even further. There are many exits in this tunnel system. I already chose one and I'll lead you there. But first, you need to rest for a bit."

"But my horse ... all my things ..."

"I had my brother – Maddox – bring them to the other exit. You'll find it all once we're out of here," said Lennox. "Now, sleep, Your Majesty. You really need it."

"Thank you, Lennox," Edmund mumbled, suddenly realising just how very tired he was. He was still cold in his torn wet shirt and trousers, but Lennox made himself comfortable right next to him, squeezing himself against the shivering human body. His fur was also wet, but seemed to dry quicker than Edmund's clothes. Soon both, hare and human, were asleep.

X

Edmund woke to pitch-black darkness. He had no idea how long he had been asleep for, but it must have been a few hours. Despite being stiff and sore from the unaccustomed position he had slept in, he felt also rested enough to continue with his crawl. The good thing was that he had dried completely during his sleep and was no longer feeling cold. He felt for his long-eared companion, and soon enough his hands found the hare's rough fur.

"Awake, Your Majesty?" asked Lennox gently.

Edmund let out a yawn. "I suppose so."

"Good, because we have a long way ahead of us. And you'll be crawling on your knees all the time."

Without any further delay, they were on their way. However, the further they got, the wider the tunnel became. Not wide enough for Edmund to walk upright, but at least there weren't any more tight squeezes.

"Tell me, Lennox, where are we?"

"Presently, Sire? I think we should be at least a couple of miles south of the river. But we still have quite a few miles to go."

"Why's that?"

"It's a system of rabbit holes. In fact, our ancestors dug a tunnel through every bit of soil in the marshes that was strong and sturdy enough to hold. It's how we travel – even across the river – if necessary."

"So, this tunnel really leads below the river?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. You see, the River Shribble may seem broad and wild, but it is not very deep. So, we could dig our tunnels underneath."

"And that's how you got across the river last night?"

"Exactly."

"But why? I'm mean, not that I'm complaining, but why were you there?"

"News travels fast among us hares," said Lennox. "One of my cousins saw you being captured by the giants, and not much later, we all knew about it. I decided to dare a look for you at night, see if there was any way we might be able to help you. But I wasn't expecting you to have made your own escape already. I really must admit that I'm impressed."

Edmund grinned, feeling extraordinarily pleased with himself. He would have waved it off as if it were nothing if Lennox had been able to see the gesture (it was too dark) – but he _would_ make a big story of it when he came back to Cair Paravel and told his siblings. Well, maybe not Lucy, though. It might scare her too much. And, if he thought about it, maybe not Susan, either – if she heard, she might never let him out of her sight again.

Hours later, he was still crawling. By that time, the comfort of being safe from the giants had worn off, and all he could think of was that he was tired, sore and hungry.

"How much further?"

"Not much, Sire – just another mile or so," said Lennox.

Edmund sighed. The hare had already said as much – _twice_.

After another twenty or so minutes, though, he realised that the air was getting fresher. This meant that they were coming closer to an exit. After the next turn, light came into sight and the tunnel was also leading upwards. It became wider, too. He was starting to freeze again, wearing only the tattered shirt. But, at the very end of the tunnel, Edmund could see that his saddle along with all his other belongings had been neatly laid down just beyond the entrance.

 _Thank Aslan!_

As much as he was able on all fours, Edmund quickened his pace. When he reached his bags, he tugged them open to pull out fresh clothes. The ripped shirt he simply tore off completely, then changed trousers and wrapped himself up nice and warm before finally climbing out of the cave. Stretching his arms and legs, he felt extraordinarily relieved to be able to stand straight again.

There was another hare sitting by the exit, bowing to him. "Your Majesty, King Edmund."

Edmund grinned at him. "You must be Maddox."

"Well guessed, Sire."

Edmund turned around, searching the place to try and find out where he was. But he couldn't be sure. He was still in the marshes, but the woods weren't too far away, as he could see in the early evening light. Only a few steps from him stood Nobell, his horse, looking calm and comfortable. There was a fire lit and a pot boiling on it. He remembered his hunger, and as if to emphasise it, his stomach gave an embarrassingly loud grumble. Curiously, he gave the boiling pot a closer inspection.

"What's that you're making?"

Maddox looked proud as he declared, "The most delicious carrot soup. I've been raiding our stocks to find something to please Your Majesty."

 _Carrot soup_? Edmund had to bite his tongue to keep himself from making a rather snide comment, which would have been very impolite, considering how much the hares had helped him. He would, of course, have preferred something ... well ... different, but the soup was ready to be eaten. And he really couldn't wait much longer.

As he sat and ate, more and more hares came and sat around him, each one asking kindly that he tell the story of how he escaped the giants. He had to start over at least a dozen times, but he hugely enjoyed the company.

It was too late to be off again tonight, and he briefly considered putting up his tent, but the hares had other ideas.

"Will his Majesty honour us by spending the night inside our underground home once more?" Lennox asked, when the food had been eaten and the story about the giants had been told over and over again.

Tired as he was, Edmund didn't have to think long about that. Only this time, he got his bedroll from the saddle bag. With that in tow, he crawled back into the hole and was soon off to sleep.

X

It the morning, it was time to say goodbye to the hares. Sentimentalities were not Edmund's strong suit, and he made the parting as short as he could, but not without expressing his gratitude to the friendly beasts several times over.

As he swung himself into the saddle, he was in a good mood, knowing that he was headed south-west now, straight for the Western Woods. It was his favourite part of Narnia, and it was his responsibility to look after these areas. He knew these landscapes much better than the North, for he had spent many days there in the one year he had been king – all under the watchful eyes of Oreius' soldiers, of course. This was the first time he was coming alone.

His new destination was the western border of Narnia, where high mountains adjoined the Western Woods and Narnia ended at the foot of those mountains which no Narnian had ever crossed.

The hares, Maddox and Lennox, joined him for the first hour of his ride, but they had to turn back when he finally left the marshes behind him. From then, on it was just him and his loyal horse again.

After having enjoyed the pleasant company of all the hares, he felt a little lonely again.

But soon he realised that riding through the woods here nearly made it impossible to feel lonely. When he had gone north, he had seen fewer creatures the further north he went. But the Western Woods were full of life, and the deeper he rode into them, the more often he heard cheers from the beasts, dryads or fauns.

"King Edmund!" they would call – he was well-known here. "How good to see you!" Or, "Your Majesty! Hope you're doing well!"

He stopped several times to have a short chat. At night, he didn't even need to set up his tent. Every evening, the Narnians he had met decided to have a spontaneous feast to honour his presence. Afterwards, they competed against each other to determine whose invitation to stay for the night he would accept.

It all contributed highly to his confidence, and made him feel more self-assured than ever since his arrival in Narnia. There hadn't been a sign of distrust towards him from anybody. Maybe they had forgiven him for what he had done? Maybe it was just he himself who had not yet been able to forgive his own sins?

For a couple of days, Edmund's ride stayed this enjoyable, but the closer he rode to the mountains – he could already see their impressing skyline towering above the treetops – the fewer acquaintances he made. He reached the bottom of the mountains on the late afternoon of his fifth day in the woods, and set up a camp to rest and stay for the night. From his saddlebag, he retrieved a lump of bread that had gone dry. After several nights of feasting, the food was less than enjoyable, but it was good enough to still his hunger.

He had just put out the fire and was ready to climb into his tent to sleep when an angry, loud and dangerous-sounding growl made him freeze.

XXX

 **A/N:** Oh dear - now what ...?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Finally ... here's chapter four! I'm sorry it took me a while. I wrote it some time in February or March but had to make many changes until I felt satisfied with it. I hope you'll enjoy it :)

In the meantime I also posted a new one-shot called _**The Letter**_ ... it just popped into my head, and whenever that happens I have to write it down ... :) so check that out as well if you like!

 **Again many Thanks to** _ **realismandromance**_ **for looking this over! It was a great help for me!**

XXX

 **Chapter 4**

"The traitor," growled a deep voice.

"That's the one," said another.

"Finally, we meet again," said a third.

Edmund tensed and took a look around, trying to stay calm. His hand lay on the hilt of his sword. "Who's there?" he called into the night, forcing his voice to sound as firm as possible. It was dark by now, and with only the glowing remains of his fire, he could barely see a thing.

"You'll know soon enough, little traitor," came the first voice again.

Edmund dragged his sword from its sheath. At the same moment, a pair of bright yellow eyes appeared in the dark. They stared at him intensely, sending cold shivers down his spine. And then, suddenly there was another pair of eyes – and soon there was yet another.

Wolves. Talking wolves, but they had no friendly intentions. They were probably the remains of Maugrim's secret police. The Narnian army had made attempts to extinguish them, but had never found them.

He counted five pairs of eyes now – and they were closing in on him. As they came nearer, he could also make out their bodies in the pale moonlight.

 _Oh, good Aslan – five at the same time_?

How was he to defend himself against five?

They circled around him, growling dangerously, and it was all Edmund could do to keep himself from trembling. His hand, sweaty from fear and ever so slightly shaking, closed around the sword's hilt. Subconsciously, he pulled the dagger from its sheath with his left hand.

For a moment, the wolves just stood there, baring their teeth threateningly, but then one suddenly leapt forward, mouth wide open and sharp teeth gleaming dangerously in the moonlight. Edmund brought his sword up, but although he managed to sidestep the attack, he also missed the wolf completely. There wasn't even a scratch to the beast's body.

After the first had had his go, a second wolf came leaping forward, and yet again, neither attack hit its mark.

 _They're playing with me_ , Edmund thought. _They_ _'_ _re checking my ability to defend myself. Once they start attacking in earnest, maybe even all at the same time, I'll be in trouble. Oh, by the Lion, what am I to do?_

Then there was a third attack, and this time, the wolf was more adamant to hurt him. It snapped at Edmund's knee and managed to rip his trousers just above where the protective leather of his boot ended. The sharp teeth grazed his flesh painfully before Edmund could move his leg out of the way. His left hand shot up at the same time, thrusting the dagger forward; however, the beast was too close for him to stab it with his sword. The dagger, though, left a bloody mark on the beast's side.

Two further attacks Edmund was able to fend off successfully, before another came from two beasts at the same time. He jerked his sword up at the first beast, who was unlucky enough to jump right into his blade, withdrawing with a deep painfilled howl. The second beast, though, coming from behind, managed to sink its teeth into Edmund's thigh. His own cry of pain nearly matched the first wolf's in volume. He tried to shake off the beast, but it had solidly latched onto his leg. It wasn't until he managed to run the dagger into the brute's side that the force in its jaw weakened. Finally, it let go of Edmund.

More wolves appeared out of the darkness, and Edmund's blood grew cold.

 _Aslan – please help me!_

But no Lion came to roar and make the beasts go away. They were still circling him ... still closing in on him. One by one, they were having their goes at him. Ignoring the pain in his wounded leg, Edmund wondered for how long he would be able to fend off their attacks before his strength would leave him.

 _Courage_ , said a voice somewhere in his head suddenly – and it sounded a lot like Peter's. _Courage, Ed. Keep calm. Assess the situation. Find your advantages. Define your tactic._

 _Hold onto your courage._

As he turned around several times, trying to keep an eye on each of his attackers, Edmund suddenly realised something. Every time one of the beasts leapt at him, it stole a short glance at the biggest of them all, the one who had spoken to him first. It had to be their leader. Wolves were pack animals: they always followed their leader. It was this one that Edmund had to defeat. But easier thought than done. The leader itself hadn't yet bothered to attack. It wasn't putting itself in danger.

 _Just you wait, brute_ , Edmund thought. He brought both weapons up and, ignoring the other animals, went straight at the pack's leader. He knew that his leg was still bleeding, and he was more hobbling than walking, but his attack on the ringleader still came unexpected enough, for he managed to dig his sword right into the wolf's chest.

The beast howled in anger and pain – it was the loudest and most frightening sound Edmund had ever heard. But the wolf was only wounded, not dead yet, and the pain made it furious. As Edmund pulled his blade back out of its body, the beast jumped forwards, snapping at him. The sharp teeth caught hold of his right forearm, trying to pull him down, and the pain was so bad that it made him drop his sword. With his left hand, he tried to stab the beast with the dagger – time after time, he only grazed the furry body. The wolf's teeth still held onto his arm, and it was pulling him to the ground with increasing force.

Edmund tried to work against the force, but he couldn't help sinking to his knees. The beast seemed even bigger to him now. But then, there came the one moment he had been waiting for – the wolf made an inapt movement that bared its chest to Edmund, and he ripped it open with his dagger. The howling was enormous, but the beast finally let go of his arm and slumped down on the ground, unmoving.

It was dead.

Thankfully, when the remaining wolves realised what had happened, they did what Edmund had barely dared to hope.

They withdrew.

Edmund knew that they would probably come back once they had chosen a new leader, but for now they let him be. He decided that he wouldn't stay any longer than necessary, not if there was any chance the beasts would come back for him.

But his arm and thigh were still bleeding, and he needed a moment to catch his breath. Thank Aslan that the bleeding wasn't heavy enough to be dangerous, but if the wounds became infected, he would be in trouble. Good thing that Oreius's people had taught him and Peter a good deal about tending to wounds. He might not have Lucy's cordial at his disposal, but in his saddlebag were dried herbs known to help against infection. He would have to tie them in with the bandages.

With much difficulty, he got to his feet and limped over to where the saddlebag lay. After he had bandaged his arm and leg by using shreds that he had half cut, half ripped off his undershirt, Edmund began picking up his belongings. His sword still lay on the ground, half buried by the dead wolf's body. He cringed at the thought of how Oreius would have told him off for this. The main thing after an attack was to get one's arms at the ready, in case the opponent came back for a new attack or there were other foes waiting.

Pushing aside the surprisingly heavy body, Edmund was about to pick up his sword when he saw something gleaming in the undergrowth close by. Cautiously, he crept over to inspect that something.

It was the second stone that he was looking for!

As he picked it up, his face lit up in a broad grin, which became a snicker and finally a hearty laugh. _Aslan!_ He had sent the wolves at him at exactly this place! It must have been that way! He might have never seen the stone. Without the wolves, he would have gone straight to sleep and wouldn't have seen anything!

With this knowledge, he felt a lot less fear that the beasts would return, now that he was sure that it had been Aslan who had sent them, but he still decided that he must be on his way. So, he packed everything up again, replaced the sword in its sheath at his hip, saddled the horse, climbed awkwardly into the saddle (his thigh was still in terrible pain) and rode on, heading south now. His last destination was the mountains where Narnia bordered Archenland.

It was a bright night, and the stars told him the way. But, as they grew pale in the early morning hours, Edmund finally allowed himself a break. He had been awake for twenty hours now, his wounds were hurting and his eyelids were drooping heavily with exhaustion. Still, he couldn't help but grin to himself, thinking about how unhappy Susan would be if she knew how much he was pushing himself.

 _This is for you, sister mine._ He chuckled quietly as he dismounted, tied Nobell to a tree and freed him from the saddle. Then, he unpacked the bedroll from his saddlebag. He slept under the open sky with no tent, his sword and dagger close at hand, but his sleep was uninterrupted. When he woke, it was noon, and the sun shone warmly. He ate dried meat with some bread, and soon was on his way again.

It was another long ride, but like before, Edmund thoroughly enjoyed it. For one thing, there was a lovely scent in the air all around him – the unmistakable smell of spring in the woods. Trees were beginning to blossom and flowers were returning from their winter break. For another, although he had reached an area where he wasn't quite as well known, he met many Narnians who were really friendly towards him. He had to fend off a few overly kind beasts, too, who saw that he had his arm bandaged and urged him to have it looked at.

Edmund had to admit to himself that it would have been nice to have that friendly badger tend to him, and he would also have enjoyed staying with the funny squirrels for a day or two. But, yet again, he also felt a pressing urge to get going and fulfil his last task – the sooner, the better.

When he'd gone on his quest, Peter had been away for four weeks. He'd come back in the early hours of the morning on the first day of the fifth week, thoroughly exhausted and a little thinner than he had been at his departure (at least, if Susan was to be believed), but unharmed. Edmund didn't know for sure how long he had been on his way now, but he was certain that he still had a tiny chance to beat those four weeks. He knew, of course, that that was not what it was about, being the fastest – and nobody expected him to beat his brother, anyway – but he couldn't help thinking that he would love to see Peter's face if he finished the quest in less than four weeks.

On the fifth day after his encounter with the wolves, he finally reached the bottom of the mountains, beyond which lay Archenland. From the information he had been given before leaving Cair Paravel, he knew that from now he would have to ride up towards the pass that led to Archenland until the path parted for the third time. There, the left turn would lead safely on towards the pass, while the right turn would lead further into unknown parts of the mountains. It would ultimately become inaccessible for his horse, so the last miles he would have to walk – or, more likely, climb. Thankfully, after a few days in the saddle with no weight on it, his leg had healed well enough, and would no doubt be strong enough to carry him.

The path parted below the tree-line, but as Edmund rode on, always going further uphill, the trees became few and far between. The ground became rockier, too, and the path narrowed down until it could no longer be identified as a path. There was still vegetation here, but very few trees and mostly smaller bushes. Edmund decided that it was time to leave the horse behind and continue on foot. Next to a strong bush, he found a good place for Nobell to wait for him – there was enough grass growing here for him to be fed. Near the bush, a small creek of cold, clear water (melted snow from the mountaintops) curved its way downhill. Close by, Edmund also found a small cave in the rock where he left the saddle and bags.

Since he didn't know exactly how far into the mountains he would have to go, he took one bag with him, to carry his cloak and some food and water. He briefly considered taking the sleeping bag, but decided against it, for he didn't want to have to carry too much.

Then, he started climbing further upwards. He didn't know if he was going in the right direction, but Aslan had been with him so far. He would be with him now, leading him. All he needed to do was to keep his eyes open. A day passed, and he found himself another very tiny cave where he could spend the night.

The next morning, he realised that the temperature had dropped a few degrees overnight. It seemed a lot colder than it had in days, and the strong winds didn't help, either. The ground was rocky, and Edmund found himself climbing more often than walking. It was a draining task, but he kept going, always careful not to make a wrong movement that could make him slip up and possibly fall. The last thing he needed was a sprained ankle, which would no doubt keep him from either climbing further up or going back down the way he had come.

Two more days passed in the same way, and although he had rationed the food and drink strictly, it was dwindling by now. But Edmund refused to turn back for more. He knew he was close by. Aslan was with him – he was guiding him. He would let Edmund know if he were meant to turn around.

The fourth morning found Edmund sitting with his back propped up against a rock, shivering in the cold wind and trying to decide what to do. He was dehydrated, his stomach was aching with hunger and he had already made several attempts to get up and walk on, but his legs were tired from all the climbing. They refused to support his weight.

He had been sitting for what must have been an hour or so, and he knew that if he remained here, the day would pass and evening would come – and with it, darkness. He couldn't go on in the dark. He also couldn't spend the night out here – he needed a cave or someplace where he was sheltered from the wind; otherwise, he would probably freeze to death. He was close to the mountaintop now, and only a few feet further up were snow and ice.

 _Snow_ , he thought longingly, _means water_.

But what use was it if he couldn't make himself get up and reach it?

"Oh, Aslan, how much further?" he mumbled to himself. He thought of home, of the Cair and of his siblings – who were there, nice and cosy, their stomachs comfortably filled with food and drink. He thought of Susan and how she would fuss if she knew the condition he was in. He thought of Peter and how he would look down on him, as Edmund couldn't seem to get his task fulfilled. And then, he thought of Lucy.

Sweet little Lucy. What would she say if she could see him now?

 _Have faith, Eddie_ – that was what she would say to him. _Have faith in Aslan. He is with you._

Well ... that was a little hard to believe right now.

Still, maybe Lucy was right. Maybe he just didn't have enough faith. Pushing himself upwards against the rock, he finally stood. His legs were aching from the exertion, but he forced himself to move them forwards, step by step.

 _Have faith! Aslan is with you!_

Lucy's sweet voice kept ringing through his head, and it kept him going. After a while, a second, much deeper voice mixed into it. It sounded very much like Peter's.

 _Courage_ , Peter's voice said. _Hold onto your courage, like before. Don't stop now. You're almost there._

He urged himself on, now barely registering the sensation of snow crunching underneath his boots. Neither did he notice that the way was becoming even steeper than it had been before, and with the snow, it became even more of a challenge.

He didn't feel the cold anymore, and the pain in his stomach was also forgotten. All he thought of were his siblings' voices in his head. Even Susan's voice had begun to mix into the choir. _We love you, Eddie_ , she was saying. _Don't stop, keep on going! Think of us and how much you love us. Think of Aslan and how much you love Him! Think of Narnia and how much you love Her!_

He barely realised that his body was close to breaking point when – finally – the familiar gleaming came into view. Fighting against his exhaustion, he scrambled on until he found what he had come here for. It was half buried in the snow, but gleamed brightly all the same. He bent down to pick it up, but instead, his legs gave way and he tumbled down into the snow. His cold fingers managed to close around the precious stone, and he added it to the two in his pouch just before his eyes fell shut and he lost consciousness.

XXX

 **A/N:** Oh dear ... I love cliffys ... stay tuned to find out what'll happen to Edmund!


	5. Chapter 5

**A** **/N:** Thanks to everybody who's still with me! Enjoy the last chapter ...

XXX

When Edmund woke, the first thing he realised was that he was no longer lying in the snow on the mountaintop. The ice-cold wind no longer tugged at him, and he wasn't freezing as badly as before. Instead, he was safe and sound in the cave where he had left his saddle and bags, with no recollection of how he had got there. He was, however, still cold and hungry, and when he made to get up on wobbly legs, he realised that he was still totally worn out.

Edmund sat down again and checked his surroundings. The pouch he had had with him the whole time lay close by, and he reached for it. All three precious stones were still inside. A weak smile lit up his face. He felt very pleased with himself. He had found them all!

 _I made it, after all!_

Now, all he had to do was get the horse saddled and ride back home.

It sounded easy, but it wasn't. Even after he ate, Edmund still felt weak, and getting the saddle onto Nobell by himself was nearly too difficult to be done. He mounted with what little energy he had left, gently dug his heels into Nobell's belly and urged him to go, trusting the animal to find the best way down the mountains.

He still had a couple of days' ride ahead of him, but despite his exhausted state, he was more confident than he had been at any moment since he left the Cair.

He wondered how long he had been lying in the cave unconscious. There was no way of telling how much time had passed since he had fainted on the mountaintop. After all, he couldn't even say for sure _how_ he had got there. It must have been Aslan's doing. Or maybe a Gryphon had found him and carried him downhill, back to his horse? The latter was possible, but seemed unlikely. Gryphons lived in the rocks, but not that high up.

As if he knew the state his rider was in, Nobell sped up to a soft canter as soon as the path became suitable for it – the high mountains with their steeper slopes lay behind them, and in the hills that they were passing through now, the route was safe for galloping along. By late afternoon, the Eastern Sea came into view. Edmund tugged the reins to stop Nobell for a moment so he could admire the breathtaking view from the hilltop where they stood.

From then on, they would be travelling along the shore, heading north for a couple more days.

Edmund had to break early for the night; he could barely hold himself upright anymore, after only a few hours' ride. He had been on the verge of falling off several times in the last hour. Compared to the cold climate in the mountains, however, it had been a warm and enjoyable ride along the rolling coast. When he set up the camp, a family of squirrels joined him. They couldn't help him much with his tent, but they chattered away and made him laugh heartily several times.

He didn't sleep very well that night, no matter how much his body was longing for a rest. He was simply too anxious to get back home as soon as he could. After what felt like hours, he finally sat up, reached for his pouch and got out the stones. It was pitch black inside his tent, but the stones gleamed enough for him to see the runes carved into them.

Turning them over and over in his hands, he wondered about the meaning of the runes. Once he was back at the Cair, he decided, he would find somebody able to translate them, no matter how long that might take.

At first light, Edmund finally gave up brooding about the runes and continued with his journey instead.

He urged the horse into a gallop wherever the path was suitable, and for as long as Nobell could make it. After a while though, he became so exhausted that he couldn't keep himself in the saddle any more when they were going at high speed. So, they had to slow down their travelling progress.

Early one afternoon, the castle of Cair Paravel came into view, shining brightly from atop the cliffs. This put Edmund in such high spirits that he gathered all his remaining strength and made Nobell speed up one more time.

It was still a way to go, and he didn't reach the castle until evening. The gates opened, and as he rode through, there was noise all around him, although he barely heard it.

"King Edmund is back!" shouted somebody.

"Get the king and the queens – their brother has returned!"

Hands were offered to him. Ignoring them for a while, his eyes darted around, looking for his siblings. A gentle tug on the reins made Nobell stop only a few feet away from the castle's main entrance, and Edmund noticed that he was being lifted out of the saddle onto the ground by strong, brawny arms. A voice belonging to one well-known centaur general was gently talking to him. Somebody else came and led the horse away.

Only now did Edmund begin the register the words that were said to him.

"Your Majesty, King Edmund – with all due respect, you look _terrible_ ," said Oreius. He steadied Edmund, who would probably have dropped to his knees if it hadn't been for the centaur holding him upright.

"Thank you, Oreius, how kind of you to mention it," he mumbled, even managing to add a slightly sarcastic tone to his voice. With a small grin, he pushed the centaur's arms away. He wanted to walk inside on his own two feet and without any assistance. Feeling for the pouch that held the _Three Stones_ – it was still neatly tucked into his belt, right next to his sword – Edmund made a few unsteady steps towards the castle's main entrance.

"Edmund!"

His eyes darted up at Lucy's voice. She was on the terrace just one level above, beaming down at him. "You're back!"

"And in one piece, too!" That was Peter's amused-sounding voice. He came into view next to his nine-year-old sister.

On Lucy's other side, Susan appeared as well. She made a low, horrified sound, and then she was out of sight again – no doubt on her way through the hall and down the stairs towards him.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Edmund managed to retort, smirking up at Peter.

It brought a broad grin to his brother's face. "Wouldn't want it any other way," he assured his little brother. And then he did something that Edmund didn't expect – High King Peter bowed to him.

Next to Peter, Lucy was still cheering, clapping her hands excitedly while jumping up and down, her hair flapping about her head.

While Edmund was looking up at them, trying to decide what else he could say, everything started turning around him. His legs gave way and he sank to his knees, just in time for him to see Susan hurry out the doors and towards him.

He was barely aware of her calling his name. Moments later, he felt Oreius' strong hands again holding him gently by the shoulders. "Shall I bring his Majesty up to his chambers?"

"No, thank you, Orieus. I shall do that myself." It was Peter's voice, much closer now. And soon enough, Edmund felt himself being lifted into his brother's arms, which carried him all the way up into his chambers and lay him down on his bed. There, Edmund fell into a very deep sleep.

X

The sun shone through the open window as the High King and his two sisters sat down at the lunch table the next day. Peter looked from Susan to Lucy and back to Susan, and finally at the meal laid out in front of them.

"Any word from Edmund yet?" he asked. "Shall we wait for him?"

Susan shook her head. "Never mind, he's probably still out of it. He's slept ever since his return last night. I tried, but couldn't get him to wake up for breakfast."

"And I bet you spent the night in the chair by his bed," Peter said fondly. Susan's habit of mothering them all could drive him half mad at times. But often enough, he was quite grateful for it as well.

She offered no answer, but her tired face said it all. "The healer said he is going to be fine in a few days. He has two almost healed wounds – they look like animal bites, maybe wolves' – and a cold, probably from his detour into the mountains. He had a bit of a fever last night, but it came down by morning. Other than that, he's just exhausted – as is to be expected."

"So, he's going to be all right soon?" asked Lucy.

Susan nodded. "He'll be all right, Lucy, don't worry." Her eyes wandered to the empty chair opposite Peter, concern showing in her eyes. "I only wish he would finally wake up for a drink and a proper meal!"

"Did somebody just say something about food?" came a familiar voice from the door.

"Edmund – you're awake!" Lucy thrilled.

Peter turned around to find his brother coming towards the table, bathed – his hair was still wet – and in fresh clothes. He still looked a bit pale and worn out, but other than that, he seemed fine. His dark eyes darted across the table, no doubt checking out the offerings of food that the valets had brought from the kitchens.

"I'm starving," he declared, as he sat. And – under the watchful eyes of Susan – he downed a giant's portion of a meal. In between bites, he told his siblings the story of what had happened during his quest. And he left nothing out ...

Peter smirked silently to himself as he watched Susan's face go pale and Lucy's eyes go wide as Edmund told how he had been captured by the giants.

"– and then," Edmund was just saying, around a mouth full of mashed potatoes, "the mother giant said that I would make a great meal later ... and she told her son that he was to keep me for a while to play with ... and then, guess what – that giant boy dumped me into a cage and there I was, their prisoner ..."

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Lucy, who seemed quite sincerely horrified at the thought. Eyes wide in awe, she stared at her brother and asked, "How'd you get out?"

Edmund didn't answer right away, watching in obvious amusement how his little sister clapped her hands over her mouth, fidgeting in her seat with excitement. He winked at her.

"That's to be my secret," he said, grinning broadly.

"And how come, Ed, that they didn't decide to eat you right away, if they thought that humans are so delicious?" Peter asked, arching an eyebrow.

His brother blushed. "Never mind," he said, and hurried to tell his siblings the story of how he had fought the wolves in the Western Woods.

So that was where those bites had come from.

When he reached the last part of his journey, Edmund's face became more serious, and he told his siblings how he had struggled along – cold, hungry and with no idea whatsoever of how he was going to get back. Susan looked ready to give him a solid scolding, but before she could say anything, Lucy piped up, "Aslan was with you, wasn't He?"

"He must have been," said Edmund with a nod, and then he told his siblings how, after finding the last stone, he had found himself back at the place where he had left the horse behind. "And the funny thing is," he added, "that somehow it felt like the three of you were with me too."

"Really?" said Lucy. "How's that?"

Edmund nodded and shrugged at the same time. "I can't really explain it – at least not without making you think that I'm hearing funny voices." He turned to Peter. "Did you have the same when you were up there in the mountains?"

The High King leant back in his seat, long legs stretched out comfortably, hands crossed over his stomach. "Well, _that_ is to be my secret, little brother."

He thoroughly enjoyed the look on Edmund's face as his brother's eyebrows drew together and a familiar pout came up. Truth be told, Peter _had_ had the same experience. But he hadn't yet spoken about it to anybody, and decided that (for now at least) he would leave his siblings to wonder. "But, while we're at it, have you figured out the meaning of the runes yet?"

"No ..." Staring at him with wide eyes, Edmund shook his head.

"Then think about those voices – think about what Aslan might have tried to tell you through them."

"You mean –"

"There are three things you need as a king ... three things that will make you a good king of Narnia."

Edmund thought about that for a moment, then said hesitantly, "Well, one of those must be _Faith_ ... I remember very well how Lucy's voice keep telling me to have faith –"

Peter nodded. "Very good, little brother. What else?"

Edmund dark eyes lit up as he realised what the second must be. " _Courage_ ," he exclaimed. "That's what _you_ – well, your _voice_ – said to me ... first when I faced the wolves, and then again up there in the mountains." Peter nodded when Edmund continued, smirking, "And old Su kept babbling something about _Love_."

Both boys grinned widely, while Susan shook her head, half-heartedly hiding a smile.

The High King finally sat up straight, only to lean towards his brother, clapping him on the shoulder fondly. "Faith, courage and love – well done, Ed. You managed all the tasks and even figured out the meaning behind it all – with a little help from your big brother, eh? Pity for you, though," Peter added, as an afterthought, "that it took you a whole four days longer than it took me to get the quest done."

Edmund glared at him, but Peter only laughed. Soon, his sisters joined in, and after a little while, so did his brother. They laughed together for a long time, even after the valets had come and cleared the table after lunch.

XXX

 **A/N:** Okay, so _**The King's Quest**_ is fulfilled now ... I hope you enjoyed it!

 **Huge Thanks to _realismandromance_ for editing! You were a great help!**

In case you're interested; I'm working on another multi-chapter adventure fic, featuring both Kings, and focusing more on the relationship they develop during the Narnian Golden Age (they'll be older than in the fic) ... Look out for _**What Happened at Farford**_ if you liked this. :)

Until then!

Coopergirl


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